Almost exactly five years ago we wrote some words recommending a convertible on the cusp of winter. Makes sense, since drop-tops tend to be less expensive in the marketplace when you’re facing five to six months of cold and flu season. Some balked so we followed up with this piece on cheap winter wheels – the proverbial “beater with a heater” – that led with:
“It occurred to me after our recent missive that perhaps recommending a convertible on the cusp of winter may be less than completely useful to a subset of our readership. So, for all four of you, listen up.”
Those four members of our readership may or may not have discovered the joys of cold-weather, top-down motoring. Regardless, thanks to global warming … erm, climate change … shifts in weather patterns as yet unexplained by legions of scientists, we have a pattern of warmer winters up here in the North Woods.
If you’re still of the mindset that convertibles are only for the months that primarily don’t end in “-er” you can click away and check out Reed’s latest video. It’s of a roadster being driven in nice weather.
As we said five years ago, the parameters are simple. In fact, they’re even more simple with our recent expulsion of the hard-dollar ceiling. For filtering purposes, I set the boundary at $4,000. We are still enforcing the “it has to run and drive” clause since your life could depend on it. While air conditioning is optional. we’ve also excluded vehicles where the seller has specifically said the heater is kaput. You need heat, else this article is simply titled “Beater” and you’re dead.
To quote me: “And that’s it. Ready? Go.”
2006 Toyota Solara Convertible – $3,200
This one is pretty easy. A rust-free Toyota that has apparently been maintained. It has some scrapes and dings, and other than the driver’s seat – honey badger attack? – the interior looks pretty clean. Your author can even spot some seat heater switches. The top looks decent, too, though there’s no mention of functionality.
The 225-horsepower 3.3-liter V6 – assuming the occasional timing belt and oil change – will probably run until the sun goes out. Transmissions are fairly long-lived, also assuming some level of maintenance. The seller is a person of few words but some of those words are “new front brake system, tires, alternator, and axle.” Kudos for using a serial comma.
You can’t really go wrong with a Camry or its derivatives almost regardless of miles (in this case north of 222,000). But you know what you can go wrong with?
1976 Mercedes-Benz 450SL – $3,900
1985 Mercedes-Benz 380SL – $4,000
Consider this one a two-fer.
Over the years at Totally That Stupid we’ve talked a lot about the Benz R107. Reed had a really nice long-mile 1986 560SL that several years ago we took on the Turtle Rally. It performed brilliantly except for a weak radiator which only made its presence known toward the end of the trip.
I might not trust either of our CHOTW contestants to do a multi-hundred mile, high-speed, freeway and backroads trip, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.
Behind Door #1 is the 1976. Something must have happened to the original 4.5-liter M117 V8 lump as it’s been replaced with a Vortec 4.3-liter V6 from something in the General Motors fleet. It’s backed by a TH350 automatic transmission and topped with a four-barrel carburetor. Basic? Sure. Effective, too, I’d think since the engine weighs less than stock but makes more power. It sure does look a little lost in the engine bay, however.
The rest of it appears (maybe) not as bad as you’d expect. Rust? Some. Soft top? Suboptimal. Interior? Present and accounted for. Heater? Well, it certainly looks like some hoses go to and through the firewall, so let’s go with “yes.” Anything else? Per the seller: “Runs and drives very nice.”
Not feeling it? How about Door #2?
The seller of this 380SL says it was sitting for about 20 years before being put back on the road a couple of years ago. Since then it’s seen daily use. The stock-type engine (complete with desirable rough idle) is newer than everything around it, though by how much is unknown. Unrelated is the broken odometer approximately 500 miles ago but the overall reading is still a low 46,555.
Cosmetically this one actually looks pretty nice. The interior is clean (uncracked dash!), the paint shines, and the seller asserts the rust is “mostly” contained to the exhaust system. The soft top doesn’t look bad – certainly nicer than the 450SL above – and the hardtop is definitely worth the $100 price differential.
I kind of like this 380SL. If my buddy Rob hadn’t just bought a stupid-nice BMW 633CSi I’d pester him to buy it. He’d probably be more interested in the 450SL, however, due to its Frankensteiny mien.
2001 Jeep Wrangler Sahara – $2,500
I hesitated to include this Jeep for two reasons. The first is the rusty frame. Depending on how rusty, that could be a safety issue. The second is a “slow” transmission leak. Depending on how leaky, that could be a hassle when the season turns properly winter.
Then I thought, “Well, there’s a good chance the leaking transmission fluid would coat and protect the rest of the frame, so it’s sort of a self-correcting problem.”
The parts of the Jeep that aren’t the frame and some obvious body panels (like the front fenders) look pretty good. The interior appears complete but could use a thorough scrubbing. The hardtop is probably a good idea but makes spontaneous top-down motoring a bit of a chore. The seller notes many new parts like a battery, radiator and water pump, brakes, and tires. You can easily add transmixer fluid (aka liquid rust prevention) through a dipstick tube. I do wonder about the registration that expired almost two years ago.
I will admit to not being the world’s biggest Jeep fan (I guess that’s a third reason for not including it). The newer/posher versions I’ve been in hold basically no appeal. However, a simple, almost disposable Wrangler like this I might get into. And at $2,500 you could (perhaps) throw a transmission pan gasket at it and (possibly … probably?) ignore the frame rot, at least for a while.
Full disclosure, part one: I worked in a Volkswagen dealership’s service department when these launched in 2006. The folding hardtop mechanism with its sliding glass moonroof (then a novel feature) was a challenge to say the least. Like many VW products of the time – looking at you, 2004 Touareg and 2002 Passat W8 – the Eos was dropped into dealerships’ laps half-baked, leaving the service personnel to beta-test them in the field.
That said, these were neat cars. They drove really well with either the 6-speed manual (like this one) or dual-clutch automatic transmission. The 200-horsepower 2.0-liter FSI four-pot moved the car nicely; the 250-horsepower 3.2-liter VR6 was an absolute gem. Both featured proper German handling and not too much chassis shake. With wheels that aren’t these they looked good, too. Okay, maybe a little portly in the rear; that top contraption has to live somewhere.
My technician Tom became quite adept at futzing with the top seals and frame alignment. On some examples the top seals would leak in carwashes and the whole top frame would rattle in cold weather. Indeed, the top electronics included a sensor that would disallow lowering the roof if the ambient temperature was below about 39°F (the roof would go up, however).
Luckily, our early Eos clients were cool people that understood this was a complicated assembly and that some bugs were to be expected.
This silver Eos in the Detroit/Lansing, Michigan, area is a 2007 and has survived over 100,000 miles, so it’s probably okay. Or as “okay” as can be a six-digit-mile, rust-prone, Mk5-based Volkswagen in the upper Midwest with a roof mechanism that would make Rube Goldberg say, “Oh, fuck that noise.”
Return with us now to the olden days when our forefathers drove goofy little roadsters quite literally on the daily. Both of your TTS hosts’ Dads commuted in southwestern Connecticut and New York in Fiat 850 Spiders. In 1976 – squarely when these shenanigans took place – this MG Midget would have been a brand-new car! Though I can’t speak for Reed’s father, my Dad would have shunned a new MG over his well-used Fiat. Then as now, 850 Spiders were just more interesting.
This Midget seems to have led an interesting life. The seller purchased the car – complete with salvage title due to being submerged in a river flood – during COVID. They addressed all the electrical needs including replacing the battery, alternator, and “bulbs pretty much throughout the car.” There was a ton of other work done as well: mostly new interior with Miata seats; clutch hydraulics; new fluids everywhere including flushing the fuel tank and radiator; and probably a lot more.
You can’t deny it looks good. Resale Red rarely disappoints, and this one appears to be red to the core. The paint is nice with only minor dings and scratches, and the seller claims no rust. Under the bonnet is gorgeous and the interior is beautifully put together. Based on hose routing the heater is a least connected and the top looks new. Figure out what to do about the offensive rubber bumpers – plus fix the radio – and you’d mostly have the complete package.
A shame to drive it in the winter? Eh, life is short and retro is still cool. Embrace your anemoia and be like our Dads.
Full disclosure, part two: I have a 1997 Z3 for which I have been casually looking at five-speed donor cars. My lovely little 1.9A was born with a General Motors four-speed automatic. At 39k miles, there is no logical reason to swap the transmission as the self-shifter will likely last longer than me. But that’s hardly the point. In cute little sportscars – especially ones with which you have a familial bond and so will not sell – three pedals are always better than two.
Many of the Z3 1.9s I come across in my greater area are too nice to harvest for parts. Others are non-runners and/or heavily crunched. This is frustrating since I would really like to be able to check out the gearbox and differential health in motion rather than take a seller’s word for it.
This Z3 is borderline, but what I think puts it over the edge for me is the rust in the rocker panels and who knows where else. Also the slightly roachy interior. And that’s probably why you should save it, so I don’t take it to pieces.
If you did save it, you could feel good about driving it all the time. Moonshot miles notwithstanding (240,000+), it doesn’t look terrible under the hood, though the seller says the car could stand some maintenance. The heater works and maybe the tushy warmers do too. The top and rear window appear in good shape so there is a non-zero chance the weather would stay outside. The paint shines well enough but boy could the body use some new roundels. Maybe some love on the front bumper, too.
The more I look at the pictures , the worse I’d feel about killing it. It probably doesn’t deserve to die. Ugh. Please buy this car so I don’t have to. And if any of you have a running and driving 1996-1999 Z3 1.9 five-speed worse than this but relatively close to the Minneapolis Twin Cities please do let me know.
Epilogue:
So which are you choosing? Let us know in the comments. Moreover, let us know if you actually purchased one of these fine specimens. We’re always here for that brand of silliness.
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